


Spick-and-Span

by Kuukkeli



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Creative usage of the shower head, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, Inflation, M/M, MTMTE, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Squirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 18:57:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3499295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuukkeli/pseuds/Kuukkeli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe getting dirty isn't so bad thing, after all...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spick-and-Span

There he stood, wearing that annoying, excessively radiant grin on his face as if he’d done something humorous. Only thing that indicated something completely different was that the swordsmech was covered from the finials to his toeplates in mud and dirt.

Ratchet had no idea nor couldn’t decide whether he wanted to know or not how or when the younger mech had managed to get himself in this situation. Perhaps it was wiser to leave it at that...

The white mech made his way to the energon dispenser for a cube but was snatched by his upper arm.

“Wash rack. Now.” There was clear authority in the medic’s voice.

“But I’m hungry”, was the meek protest.

“Now.” Ratchet left no room for arguing as he started dragging Drift to the wash rack. If this dimwit thought of spending any longer covered in filth, he was greatly mistaken.

Drift was forced under the shower head and gasped loudly when cold cleanser hit his warm armor, platings clamping tightly against his body as he tried to prevent the cold liquid from slithering down his protoform. A choked whimper escaped his vocalizer despite how much he fought it.

“Whine all you want but there’s no way you’ll march around looking like that”, the older mech scolded and took the shower head to rinse the loose filth away properly.

“I... I can do this myself, you know”, Drift mumbled, holding out his hand.

“And miss some spots? Forget it. Better I do this”, Ratchet said and after finishing rinsing the now white armor, he unscrewed the shower head to get a constant flow of cleanser. “Relax your armor so I can rinse your protoform. I bet you’ve got some clumps and clustered mud beneath there.”

With a slight reluctance, the speedster did as was told and relaxed as best as he could, his shoulders slumping as the warm cleanser trickled down between his armor and protoform, washing away the filth that had gathered there. It was a nice feeling to have the normally already cramped space cleaned from the mud that had made him feel uncomfortable as it pushed against both his delicate and sensitive protoform and protective armor. The filth ran down his legs and eventually was swallowed by the drain.

Drift sighed in contentment as his discomfort eased the more Ratchet sprayed him with the cleanser.

Once satisfied with the result of his work on rinsing Drift beneath his armor, Ratchet cranked the faucet until he had a jet of cleanser. He didn’t give the younger mech any warning as he directed the jet to the shoulder joint, the white mech yelping in surprise.

“Stand still. I don’t want any cleanser gone wasted”, the medic grunted and took a firm but gentle grip on Drift’s arm, moving the limb for better access to the joint.

The swordsmech’s optics were half-lidded and dim, his field pulsing calmly. He was definitely enjoying this – a sight Ratchet savored whenever he could.

Done with the arms and hands, Ratchet moved to the legs, frowning as he noticed the joints there were hidden under a thick layer of mud. Where this kid had waded? Shaking his head, the medic decided it’d be better if the kid sat on a stool.

“Sit on the stool, will ya”, the red and white mech said gruffly.

The younger mech nodded and sat on the stool, waiting for Ratchet to kneel down and take his right leg by the ankle to prop it on his thigh. The tingling feeling returned and it tickled. Drift chuckled softly at the sensation, squirming a little.

Ratchet paid no attention to that and finished washing the ankle and moving closer to Drift to wash the knee. Now the tingling was more intense as the knee joint was cleaned. Now the medic was kneeling right in front of Drift, rinsing his hip joint... Oh, okay... Now it felt... Okay, now it felt tenfold better than it had with the knee.

Drift bit down on his bottom lip, trying his hardest _not_ to push his hips towards the jet, stifling a groan by thinking about something that would take his thoughts away from the sensation. But it was hard, oh so hard when Ratchet moved the hose back and forth to wash the mud away.

A whimper threatened to slip from Drift’s lips when the jet of cleanser disappeared from his hip down to his left ankle, this limb also being propped on one white thigh. Looking forward to the jet to return back to his hip, the white mech gripped the edges of the stool, careful not to clench it too much. His gaze fell on the mech on his knees. The concentrated look on Ratchet’s face was endearing – it took Drift’s mind off the slowly swirling feeling in his lower stomach but only for a moment until the hose was back to his hip. The sudden (but not unexpected) spike of pleasure made the younger mech flinch, a squeak breaking loose from his mouth.

Ratchet stopped and withdrew the hose. “Did that hurt?”

Drift shook his head, a little embarrassed. “No”, he said under his breath.

And so the older mech brought the hose back up and this time he had his medical sensors dialed up for any indications for Drift being in pain. What he didn’t expect was that the younger mech’s vents clicked online, the steady hum accompanying the splattering noise of the cleanser hitting the floor.

He glanced up to see Drift’s lips slightly parted and his optics a tad brighter.

“Are you all right?” he asked, pointing the hose away from Drift.

“Don’t... don’t stop”, the other mech begged, shifting on the stool to open his legs wider.

Quickly summing things up, Ratchet slowly brought the hose to the exposed wiring between Drift’s thigh and pelvic plating, gently working the cleanser into the sensitive array. When he received a breathy moan he knew he was on the right tracks.

Drift bucked his hips for more as the throb in his valve was becoming harder to ignore, wanting, demanding. “Please, Ratch...” he uttered and opened his panel, moaning as the cleanser flowed over his anterior node and valve.

Taking the hint, the medic reduced the cleanser flow and targeted the offered valve, smirking at how the speedster jumped when the rapidly dribbling cleanser made impact with the anterior node.

The constant dribbling on his node nearly undid Drift right there, his legs twitching violently and the litany of choked moans filling the wash rack. He only got to take a deep in-vent when the hose was moved away – but just for a very brief moment and then it was back.

Ratchet repeated this couple of times until he was sure Drift was on the verge of overloading. He waited for a while for the younger mech to gather his bearings, running his fingers over the wet lips presented to him. He could feel the mesh linings clenching on nothing, a clear indication of Drift being close to his much needed release.

Overwhelmed by the pleasure, the swordsmech peered down at Ratchet, silently pleading for more. He was so close... Why wouldn’t Ratchet grant him his relief? He was so damn close! Getting desperate of being ignored, he scooted closer to the other mech, trying to get what he craved for.

What happened next was something that hadn’t crossed Drift’s mind. The hose was inserted in his valve in one smooth thrust, the flow of cleanser reaching every single node and sensor cluster within the valve. Drift’s body shot up and nearly curled over the older mech, a loud moan tearing his vocalizer.

A thumb came up to his anterior node, rubbing it in small circles. The valve clenched around the hose, closing the way out, trapping the liquid inside, the small platelets bulging ever so slightly. The thumb continued its task on driving Drift over the edge and the flowing cleanser inside his valve only assisted.

Ratchet leaned closer and the thumb was replaced by his tongue, the tip making effort on burying into the swollen node, finding _the_ spot. The white mech wailed in pleasure, his legs taut and body shivering. His valve clenched around the hose tighter once again, forcing the liquid to squirt out on Ratchet.

The red and white mech helped his companion through his overload by lapping eagerly at the anterior node, not one bit disturbed about being dirtied by the slick liquid that trickled down his windshield. Pulling out the hose, he cleaned Drift’s array. With his tongue. Satisfied, he rinsed the hose and screwed the shower head back.

“How was that?” he asked smugly, though already aware that the younger mech liked it.

All he got for an answer was a soft chuckle. Drift sat up and realized his knees were shaking. He smiled at Ratchet, not relying on his legs to be fully cooperative at the moment. He held out his hands so the larger mech could grasp them and pull him to stand up.

“What do I get for behaving so well?” the swordsmech purred, wrapping his arms around Ratchet’s neck.

“I can think of a reward or two...” Ratchet rumbled and pulled the smaller mech into a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone who's done what Ratchet did to Drift here, knows it won't take long to achieve bliss.


End file.
